Thursday, May 3, 2012

Scrapbook Layout: LOAD, Day 2: Memories

Day two of LOAD.  Today's prompt was no pictures.  As soon as I heard this, I knew exactly the story I wanted to tell.  I wrote the journaling and printed it on my wide format printer.  I don't use this thing nearly as often as I should.  I think it's location prevents this.  I'm looking around my room to figure out a way to get it out of the cavernous pit in which it now resides and put it out front and center.  Only problem is the thing is huge - so it's going to take some maneuvering. We'll see if I can figure that out.

I didn't want to pull out all of the Christmas embellishments and paper that I own to scrap this Christmas story, so I chose items that were handy:  a 6x6 paper pad from Authentique, some red ribbon from a kit, DIY thickers in my favorite font (Rootbeer Float!) that I covered in red glitter, a pack of brads from MME, some Prima Letters, a bit of Kaisercraft bling and Glimmer Glaze.

I attempted to use the silver Glimmer Glaze on my layout for day one, but after smattering it on the page, decided I didn't like it and covered it up.  On this layout, I used the red to paint a border around three sides of the layout.

I'm thankful for the fact that this story is now captured in my book - never to be forgotten.

Journaling Reads:

So many of your memories of childhood fade away as the years past and yet, there are other that etched indelibly in your mind that no matter how much time has gone, the moments will never be forgotten.  I have a lot of memories of my mom that are like that, but one story in particular removes the layers of the everyday and broadcasts my mother’s spirit loud and clear.  I don’t remember the year, but I remember all of the emotions, all of the thoughts, all of what I was experiencing.  Christmas was always my mother’s time of the year.  She loved everything about it.  Okay, maybe she didn’t like going to the mall and you’d never see her in Toys R Us no matter what one of us told Santa we wanted, but she loved to decorate, she loved to cook, she loved to wrap presents even if it did take her until the wee hours of Christmas Day to complete the task.  Mostly, she loved being surrounded by her family.  She loved seeing her kids happy.  One Christmas, sometime when I was in the middle grade, Christmas approached and instead of her normal glee, it was filled with sadness and regret.  Our father was long gone, again and my mother was a working, single mom with four kids.  There just wasn’t any money for gifts.  It bothered her.  It bothered her a lot.  We spent Christmas Eve at our grandparents so that there would be something under the tree come Christmas morning.  I don’t remember any of us being upset or disappointed about the lack of gifts.  We knew how hard our mother worked to give us what we needed, but her hurt was palpable.  The day came and went and honestly, I don’t think any of us thought anything more about it.  That is until a cold Saturday in February.  Awaken too early in the morning to the sound of utensils being struck upon frying pans, we crankily opened our eyes and listened to her call us all down to the living room.  My first thought was what did we do now.  Almost panicked we walked slowly down the stairs to see the biggest grin on her face.  There on her ficus tree was strewn garland and tinsel.  Below it were gifts wrapped in wax paper and aluminum foil.  My mother called, “Merry Christmas.”  To say we were confused would be an understatement, but we caught on pretty quick.  We were going to have the Christmas mom wasn’t able to give us in December.  I don’t remember what the boys received, but I opened a brand new typewriter - something that I had wanted for as long as I could remember.  And though, the gift was appreciated and special to me, I think seeing the joy in my mother’s face that morning was the best gift of all.  Christmas in February has become quite the legend in our family.  It’s a memory that comes up every time my brothers and I reminisce about mom.  It’s a memory that shows the true spirit of who our mother was and no matter when or where Christmas is celebrated now, it hasn’t been and never will be the same since mom has passed.

You can see the process video below:

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